


be the spring to your smile

by cliche_username



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, But just a little angst, Character Study?, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, No editing we die like mne, OTY Era, Oneshot, That's all just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliche_username/pseuds/cliche_username
Summary: Seungcheol takes himself to America for Dino's birthday.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups & Seventeen, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Everyone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	be the spring to your smile

**Author's Note:**

> figured I might as well post this -- it's been sitting in my drafts since I heard that Cheol popped over to America during OTY for Dino's birthday. With Hit The Stage coming out soon it will no longer be a nebulous period of Seventeen history, so it's either post it now or never! I hope y'all enjoy~

Choi Seungcheol has good days and bad days. The day he gets on the plane, it’s been a bad day. 

He’s been on his own-- all the managers are with the others in America, and Seungcheol has coordinated with them to ensure that he winds up in the right place but he’s a grown man. He can get on an airplane by himself. He got on the plane by himself when he went back to Daegu, booked the tickets and called the taxi and hugged all his boys goodbye before he left. They had just finished the thick of preparing for end-of-year performances then, and rehearsals for the tour were getting ready to kick off; he’d taken the time when he could because every bone in his body wanted to stay. He was the leader, he was  _ the _ hyung. To leave for too long would be to abandon them. He flew out, he saw his parents, he spent days sleeping as long as he wanted and eating his mom’s cooking, but the longer he stayed it grew worse. He’d gone back to Seoul, and he’d sat on the sidelines for rehearsals and ran interference with the company and got dinner on the late nights so they wouldn’t have to go home hungry. And then… then they left.

They’ve been gone for months and Seungcheol misses them like a limb. He booked the tickets, he coordinated with the managers, he reserved his own hotel room. He’s not going as Seventeen’s S.Coups, with the rigidity of schedules and dress codes and managers to keep him. He’s going as Choi Seungcheol, brother, and Choi Seungcheol feels sick even before he leaves the dorm to go.

It’s not bad in the beginning. He took his medication before he left, and the ride to the airport and the trip through security are not bad. He fights through the nausea and the little bit of shaking and focuses on getting through the airport, presenting his boarding pass and depositing his luggage and navigating to his gate. No one there pays him any mind, which is nice, because he’s on his own and wouldn’t know what to do with the attention. Thankfully the wait for boarding is very short, and then he’s shown to his seat in business class and left alone.

The flight is the hard part. He jams his headphones on and marathons episodes of the webtoon he’s working through until his eyes can’t stay open, and then he sleeps, and dreaming is almost worse than being awake. When he wakes up the sun is shining through the windows and his stomach is still in knots and his hands are still shaking. He jams his headphones back on and watches his webtoon until they announce descent and he has to put everything away. After that he just shakes and shakes, and clings to his armrests and presses the back of his head against the back of the seat. His meds are in his bag in the overhead compartment. He curses his idiot brain for leaving them there and screws his eyes closed until the plane is no longer moving. 

The go-ahead is given to take off seat belts and Seungcheol lunges out of his seat, pulls the overhead compartment open, and pulls his bag out. It’s the work of seconds to pull his meds out and wash a pill down with the water bottle he got from the stewardess earlier. He drains the rest of the water bottle, too, because he’s had it since yesterday and probably hasn’t drank nearly enough of it. His hands still shake a little, and his stomach still twists a little, but he closes his bag up and sits back down and waits for business class to be cleared for leaving. He goes through his checklist again-- passport, boarding pass, rudimentary English to get him through immigration. He’s never been to the states without a work visa before. It’s always been for work, tour or KCon or other promo. Today he’s just a tourist. Customs will be difficult, but it’s been difficult before and he’s still gotten through every time. He’ll be okay.

It occurs to him that he’s starving. He probably slept through the in-flight meal, like an idiot.

Business class finally disembarks, and Seungcheol gets off the plane and goes through the tunnel and makes it through immigrations, clinging to his backpack until he has to free his hands to show his passport. The immigrations people wave him through, and he finds his luggage, and then he buys a pastry from the Starbucks kiosk before going out. The managers know when his flight is, and they told him that they’d pick him up. He appreciates that, at least. Getting a taxi here would be rather difficult, especially with the state he’s in. He tows his suitcase along and munches the pastry as he walks-- the relief is significant-- and only has to look around a moment before he sees one of the managers waiting for him outside. 

Seungcheol tows his pastry and his luggage over and headbutts the older man on the shoulder. His hyung pats him on the back.

“Good flight?” He asks. Seungcheol shrugs.

“Safe flight,” he says. “Can we go? I want to see them.”

“Are you sure? It would be better if you rested first.”

“No,” Seungcheol says. “It would be better if I saw them first.” The manager shrugs and leads the way out, and a car is waiting for them. The dashboard clock inside says it isn’t even ten AM yet-- the others will be sleeping still. Seungcheol finishes his pastry and then dozes a bit as hyung drives them back to the hotel, but as they park he’s very awake. He clenches and unclenches his fingers around the straps of his backpack as he puts it back on, and tries to focus his mind on the weight of the suitcase behind him. He’s okay. He’s  _ okay.  _ (He’s going to change his prescription again when he gets home.) They get on an elevator and go up to the lobby, and Seungcheol goes up to the desk and checks in. As soon as he confirms the room number, manager-hyung is texting the other managers. At least one of them is awake to receive it and start waking up the others. 

His hands are still shaking as he leaves the counter. He stuttered twice trying to explain that he was checking in, and his memorized English phrases almost weren’t enough to communicate his business. The discomfort twists his stomach in knots, enough that even if he could grab some food now he doubts he’d be able to eat. They ride the elevator upstairs and he clamps his hands around the railings, digging the edges into his palms. He breathes-- all the way in, all the way out, as much as his lungs can fit. The elevator trundles to a stop. He unclenches his hands from the handrails and drags his things into the hallway. They walk, and walk and walk some more; hotel hallways are the type that seem to stretch on for a million years. Finally they reach his room and he slides his key card, pushes the door open, drops his bags on the floor. Behind him, manager-hyung lingers by the door, holding it open. Seungcheol strips off his jacket and shoes, feeling his hands shake as he drops them on the floor. In the doorway, manager-hyung says, “Seungcheol-ah, they’re coming.”

He straightens up fast enough to almost hurt and goes to the door. One of the doors just down the hall is open, and as he watches another opens across the way. Seokmin is the first into the hallway, rubbing his eyes, and Jeonghan is right behind him. He doesn’t look pleased-- but who would? From around the corner, Minghao and Jihoon appear, Mingyu and Junhui and Hansol trailing behind. A second later, Jisoo follows them. From the second open door, following one of the other managers, come Wonwoo and Soonyoung. Just two missing…?

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Seungkwan’s voice calls from the other direction, beyond Seungcheol’s open door. Seungcheol feels the outline of his key card in his pocket and steps out into the hallway, letting the door swing close behind him, and sees Seungkwan and Chan together, both of them rumpled and sleepy. Seungkwan’s attention is on the manager at the end of the hall; Chan’s eyes slide past, following the closing door, and land on Seungcheol.

“ _ Hyung! _ ” he says-- or shouts, really-- and everyone else’s attention snaps to. Seungkwan looks at him and his mouth drops open.

Then he pouts, “could you not have come a little later in the morning, hyung? This really is too much.”

Seungcheol opens his mouth, feels his stomach twist, and then his brain catches up to him and he laughs. “Aish, this kid,” he says. “No gratitude,” and then he catches Chan as he barrels into him, wraps him up in a hug. “Dino-yah,” he says. 

“ _ Hyung,” _ Chan says again. Then the others catch up, and Soonyoung has him for a moment and then Seokmin’s laughing and/or crying into his shoulder and then they’re all taking turns, hugs and laughs and tears go around and Jihoon is plastered to his side, sleepy and silent but beaming. 

Seungcheol catches Minghao by the elbow and asks, “are you feeling better?” and Minghao rests his other hand on Seungcheol’s and smiles. 

“Much better,” he says. “It’s good to see you, hyung.”

“Who  _ wouldn’t  _ feel better with a visit from leader-hyung?” Junhui pipes up, draping himself over Seungcheol’s back. “It makes all our hearts shine.”

Someone-- Seungcheol misses whom-- groans at that, but Seungcheol just pats Junhui’s arm with his free hand and laughs. Most of the knot in his stomach has unwound, although his hands are still shaking. “My members make my heart shine,” he retorts, and everyone else groans again. He feels Junhui and Jihoon laughing where they’re leaned against him and watches Minghao’s little smile march all the way across his face. The others are still groggy, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and leaned into each other, and Seungcheol remembers his sense.

“Right then,” he says. “Go back to bed. I’ll still be here when you get up. You’ve all worked hard.” Junhui huffs and Jihoon’s grip tightens a bit. The others look at each other, and then a rapid-fire game of rock-paper-scissors occurs. Jihoon lets go long enough to throw once, but then he loses so he lets the rest of them go on with it. After a few moments Wonwoo wins, with a cheer that is noticeably muted for the occasion. Everyone else quietly mourns their losses and says their good-nights: Jeonghan with a hair ruffle, Seokmin a bear hug, off to their room, Hansol claps Seungcheol on the shoulder and drags Jihoon off, Minghao gently pulls away and Jisoo gives Seungcheol another hug before they go, Mingyu hugs him and moves off with Junhui, Seungkwan gives him an approving nod and Chan gives him a hug. 

“Are you here for my birthday?” He asks, as he lets Seungcheol go. Seungcheol glances over at Seungkwan, whose birthday was less than a month ago, and replies,

“It was good timing. If I could visit for everyone’s birthdays I would.”

“You politician,” Chan giggles, and then he and Seungkwan move off. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are left; Wonwoo pulls a key card out of his pocket and hands it to Soonyoung.

“Oh, good, I left mine in the room,” Soonyoung says, and then he smiles at Seungcheol. His eyes dart briefly downwards and his smile fades a little. “Are you alright?”

Seungcheol unclenches his fists. He finds his voice. 

“Better now,” he says. “Just tired.”

Soonyoung’s mouth tilts sideways in sympathy. “Get some rest,” he says. “We’ll be here when you get up. Wonu?”  


Wonwoo, in sweats and a bathrobe, not even equipped with glasses, says, “Yeah.”

“We’ll bring food back,” one of the manager hyungs says. “Go ahead.” Seungcheol nods. Soonyoung turns and goes back to his room. Wonwoo comes close enough to bump shoulders with Seungcheol, and waits as he unlocks the door; he plops down on Seungcheol’s bed as Seungcheol washes his face in the bathroom, and he’s mostly asleep by the time Seungcheol gets back. He opens his eyes long enough to find Seungcheol’s and smile. It’s obvious that this is the alternative to everyone crowding into his room for the next several hours, and Wonwoo’s presence is a calm one, and Seungcheol is so happy to be here that he doesn’t even put up a perfunctory protest. He climbs into bed next to Wonwoo and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @amberlizard if u feel like it n thanks for reading!!


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